“Hey, Mike!”
I turned. “Jeff! What are you doing here?” I yelled over the loud music.
“I come here a lot.” Jeff was a work friend. We were at a night club. “This place is hot!”
“You know it!” I replied.
We talked shop talk for a bit. “Mike,” he said. “I see a friend of mine. I think I’ll ask her for a dance.”
I watched him. He wandered through the crowd and approached an attractive, young blond. They exchanged words. She stood. He led her to the crowded dance floor.
His friend had a friend. She sat alone at their table. I loved to dance and hoped she’d rather dance than sit by herself. I strolled over. The crowd pushed me in various directions, as they gyrated to the music. They didn’t distract me. I had a goal. I tapped her shoulder. She looked up at me. “Yes?” Brown eyes—beautiful brown eyes stared up at me. “Would you like to dance?” I asked hopefully.
She smiled, “OK!”
A fight broke out between two young studs. We changed direction to avoid the commotion and struggled to the dance floor, which was sticky with spilled drinks. We danced. She looked up and smiled. Her brown eyes mesmerized me.
“You have beautiful eyes.” I yelled over the noise—not exactly a romantic setting.
She smiled. “Thank you.”
The song ended. “Stay up?” I asked, not wanting to let her go.
She smiled again, her brown eyes shining. “OK!”
The third song ended, “Stay up? I asked again.
“No, maybe later.”
“OK.” I replied. I led her back to her table—disappointment the moment was over - and thanked her for the dance. I wanted to ask if I could join her and her friend, but I was too shy. I thanked her for the dance and went back to my spot by the bar. I sipped my drink, stared in her direction, and waited. I saw another guy ask her to dance and tensed. They spoke. He walked away. I gave her time, not wanting to seem pushy but wanting to be with her again—to dance the dance.
The band played one of my favorites. I stood by her shoulder again. “Want to dance?”
“Sure!” she smiled.
The song ended. I looked into those brown eyes, “Stay up?”
Several songs later, I thanked her again, and left her at her table. An hour later, we walked back to her table for the fourth time. I thanked her. She nodded to her friend.
“This is Lisa.”
“Nice to meet you, Lisa,” I said. We shook hands.
“You can sit with us if you like.” Georgia said.
“I’d love to.” I replied.
Lisa poked Georgia in the side, “Georgia? What are you doing?” She didn’t think I would hear over the music.
“Lisa, it’s OK.” Georgia looked at me. I sat down. We talked or danced all evening.
The last waltz played. My arms circled her—holding her close to me. I felt something under my shoe. Probably a piece of litter, I thought to myself. I stepped on it again. I released her, bent down, and picked up a large smoky topaz. It was several carats and reflected the shimmering lights over the dance floor. Georgia looked at her finger.
“That’s the stone from my ring! Thank you for finding it. It’s my favorite ring. The stone is so beautiful, but the setting isn’t very strong. One day I want to have it reset, so it won’t fall out.”
Midnight came and went. Lisa looked at Georgia, “We better leave. I have to work tomorrow.”
“Mike, we do have to leave. It was nice meeting you.”
“Do you need a ride home?” I asked, hoping to extend the evening and my time with her.
“We’re fine. We’ll grab a cab.” Lisa said quickly. She didn’t seem to like me much and wanted to get out of there.
